


The Same Thing

by T Verano (t_verano)



Category: The Sentinel (TV)
Genre: M/M, Spanking (off-screen with Jim receiving)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-05-07
Updated: 2008-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-29 18:57:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18784186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/t_verano/pseuds/T%20Verano
Summary: Night. Loft. Bed.  (Man, I'm in a rut. It makes me want to write elevator fic and roof fic and alley fic and tent fic and sidewalk fic and …)





	The Same Thing

**Author's Note:**

> Birthday ficlet for janedavitt, whose writing is always amazing and whose writing of any and every kink is a revelation.
> 
> Unending, heartfelt thanks to laurie_ky for beta'ing this.

Nobody fits together better than they do. No other two people on the face of this planet (or in this far-flung boondock arm of the galaxy, or anywhere, in any crowded, dense, teeming center of any galaxy) will _ever_ fit together better. He's sure of it.

Most of the time he's too filled with loving Jim to have room for anything else but the rightness of it. Most of the time… except when Jim gets that look, that _I don't deserve this_ look -- not the sarcastic version, or the impatient one, but the disbelieving, unbearably happy one. Seeing Jim look like that makes Blair feel humble himself, and he follows Jim straight into _I don't deserve this_ , unbearably happy, himself.

Follows… Leads. Before Jim, he didn't understand that those could be the same thing.

Jim's quiet now, nearly asleep, his back against Blair's chest, his still-hot ass pressing against Blair's spent and very satisfied dick. Spooned together; fitting together. Blair kisses Jim's shoulder and rests the side of his face against its smoothness, its sweatiness, its strength; lets his own strength surround Jim, taking care of him. Nobody, looking at them (thinking about this makes Blair smile against Jim's shoulder, possessively, before he kisses it again) -- _nobody_ looking at them would guess they'd fit together so perfectly; not this way, anyway.

But they do. Needs, wants, kinks. Erogenous zones. Each fitting the other, like a candle flame fits the air around it, shaped by it, shaping it. Brightening it.

Taking. Giving.

His arm is wrapped around Jim's chest, his hand lying flat against Jim's ribcage -- his still-hot hand; still hot, like Jim's ass; hotter than the warm, sweaty, peaceful skin beneath his fingers. His palm still throbs; another echo of how Jim's ass must be feeling, another feeling tying them together.

Leading. Following. Fitting together. Each fitting the other -- how Blair can look, hungrily, at Jim, thinking about what he wants to do with him, to him, _for_ him, and get Jim hard and hot and needy from just being looked at that way, without a word being said.

How Jim can fine-tune the sting from Blair's hand and take exactly what he needs (for this, for anything; Blair wants him to take what he needs for _anything_ ), letting himself feel it less, or more, whatever he needs, until he's only one last, forceful kiss of Blair's palm against his ass away from letting go. How he lets go, completely, when they do this. How he gives that to Blair.

Giving, receiving.

Fitting together. How sometimes all it takes for Blair to be the one ready to come in his pants like a teenager (and he did, once; lost between Jim's voice and Jim's words, Jim's fingers teasing the palm of his hand; squirming helplessly, as if all the nerves in his palm were hardwired to his dick; new meaning to the term hand-job), is for Jim to take Blair's hand, and touch it. Just _touch_ it. Any way he wants to.

Like he's doing now (not asleep, not yet; and Blair whispers _Love you_ against his shoulder, companionably) — turning Blair's hand until he can trail his thumbnail lightly across Blair's palm, Blair's already (and still) tingling palm.

Palm, ass; needs, wants; erogenous zones. Following, leading.

Together.

And even though (no matter what Jim's doing to the palm of his hand) Blair's not ready (not yet, but soon, _soon_ , if Jim keeps this up) to do more than nuzzle Jim's shoulder, it's still enough. The side of his face fits here, right here, perfectly, against Jim; his lips fit perfectly against Jim's skin; his heart fits perfectly behind Jim's heart; taking care of it.

Nobody fits together better than they do.

He's sure of it.  
 


End file.
